Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Friday was a wake up call for me. I had a pleasant visit from Lisa who dropped off the most beautiful portrait of Yadon and I to date. She also listened to my woes of the endless crying and discomfort Ya has displayed for weeks. It's the latter I am most grateful for.

The little behaviors I had just chalked up as Ya's fussy demeanor seem to add up to classic acid reflux disorder. Wow. So the non-stop eating of my chub chub is a soothing mechanism? The hiccups are not growth spurts but his body's efforts to fight the acid build up. And the constant crying is a result of painful heartburn, not the desire of a spoiled baby to be held all the time.

My poor little one.

Anyway, I called the pediatrician and got an appointment within two hours of my call. We waited impatiently in the waiting room (thank God on the "well baby" side away from all the germs) for about an hour, then in the medical room for another hour for the doctor. It was worth the frustration of the wait. Yadon ate in the room, then promptly threw up all over the examination table when the doctor entered. He then started a heavy swallow (pushing the rest back down to his tummy) and the hiccups began. So did the screams of tortured baby. After the demonstration, our doctor agreed that we were dealing with reflux and he prescribed a generic form of Zantax to be taken. Clearly I am not one of those over reacting Mommys with a colicy baby... or at least I wasn't overreacting this time.

He also gave a prescriptive order for an abdominal ultrasound - which turned out negative for some unpronouncable "p" thickness disorder that males are prone to. Now this appointment was also unscheduled and took place at the hospital. For a few minutes it seemed that because I had fed my almost-eight-week-old baby, we'd be unable to have the procedure. Then the registrar read the doctor's order and said the magic words: "STAT." This is hospital code for you have to see them because it is imperative to the welfare and health of the patient. I tried to arrive between feedings, but more waiting put us right into one. So I checked with the receptionist who said softly, "They already penciled him in. Go ahead and feed the baby, they'll never know."

Of course the sono tech did know, because Ya's belly was full. This was partially because of the feeding and partially because he'd been holding a BM since Friday (he's a once a week pooper). Ya was content for a few minutes despite being undressed to his diaper and having the jelly rolled around his tummy in the dim lit room. Then he'd had enough and actually grabbed the ultrasound hand held unit and yanked at it. It was reminiscent of his inutero sonograms! Next came the most uncomfortable breast feeding ever. I had to whip it out in the room and try to convince him to eat while sitting up and with the tech still rolling the sensor thingy around his tummy. Talk about awkward! The result? He doesn't have the p... whatever it was.

So, my baby is on drugs. He sleeps a bit more than before. He isn't as fussy. He actually coos and is more alert when he's awake. And he's okay with being mummified at night so he can sleep better. What a difference. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days we'll get to see his real personality...